


Brothers: Reminded

by MusicBooksNoReality



Series: Brothers [3]
Category: DCU, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Dick Grayson Has Issues, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson is Not Adopted, Gen, Jason Todd Deserves Better, Jason Todd Deserves Happiness, Jason Todd Feels, Jason Todd Has Feelings, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Heart, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd Swears, Jason Todd is Bad at Feelings, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd-centric, Latino Jason Todd, Protective Jason Todd, Resurrected Jason Todd, Romani Dick Grayson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-02-19 01:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22570090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicBooksNoReality/pseuds/MusicBooksNoReality
Summary: Jason and Dick heal and forgive the past so that they can move forward.UNDER MAJOR EDITING
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Series: Brothers [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605646
Comments: 19
Kudos: 379





	Brothers: Reminded

Despite popular belief Jason wasn’t an unfriendly soul; he just wasn’t a welcoming one. His walls were high and thick and for every reason: he’d been broken down and beaten and betrayed too many times for them not to be. He was a tower of a man, shoulders broad, a good 6 foot 2. No one trusted him just by looking at him, so why should he return the favor? He was a mixed man (Latino and white) with his accent explaining where he grew up (Crime Alley). He was judged and quickly.

And Jason wasn’t a stranger to being treated rough. His whole life he’s struggled with the idea of being loved and accepted because of it. His past wasn’t a pretty one (abuse and disarray, homelessness, near death several times, actual death, torture and slavery, rape, he could go on for lifetimes because unfortunately he had enough horrible stories to fill them) and the walls it created could never come down.

But this morning Jason wasn’t thinking of the usual horrors that filled his book. It was someone else’s story that occupied his headspace.

Him and Dick were never close. There was years of hatred between them, cold shoulders and misplaced trust. Dick told him once, after they reconciled, that the time they had together was never going to get back the years they lost, they were gone and were never coming back and nothing could change it. But then Dick smiled and said that at least they had a place to start in the right direction. That was before Jason had gotten himself killed, but the words were glue. He thought of them every time Dick was mentioned, seen, or thought of. They could still try.

The smoke out of his lungs twirled in the cold air. It was early morning, fall. Jason hadn’t slept again, despite the bruises under his shirt and jacket, the ache in his bones, the hunger in his stomach, the memories in his brain, his brother shaking on the floor, the memories twisting into nightmares, Dick coughing blood and Jason tied up, he can’t help why can’t he help God fucking _dammit_ someone _fucking help_ —

He took another drag, a long one, and let the nicotine invite itself into his lungs. He let it sit... and sit... and sit... and sit before bellowing it out. The drug coursed through him and Jason lifted his head back, the cool air violating his bruised neck.

Batman may have grounded the Red Hood from the city, but Jason Todd was never mentioned in that deal.

He yawned. He hadn’t slept for 48 hours because of the stupid ass nightmares.

His phone rang, the stillness of Gotham city’s finest alley broken.

“Yeah.”

“Hey Jay.” Speak of the devil. “Any way you can come to the Manor today?”

He checked his watch. “When?”

“15 minutes?”

“Make it 10.” Click.

How were they supposed to take that step together in the right direction if one of them was dead? Jason tried to not think of the irony behind that question and got on his motorcycle.

Did Dick not know what he was doing to himself? That sort of stress could get him killed. Did he not know that he had family? Was Jason not Dick’s family? He told Dick so much in his life, about the anger, the jealousy, the fear, and Dick didn’t trust him with his heart of hearts? Dick shared stuff, he always did and on the surface he seemed vulnerable and open, but apparently it was never more than an act. Dick was complex. He was more complex than his family realized.

* * *

Stepping back into the manor always reminded him strongly of three times.

The first day Jason was first brought there, to the Manor. He was 12, starving and absolutely fucking terrified. It was raining. It was always raining in Gotham. They were in a car that was more expensive than Jason was and he was scared to get anything dirty despite the heavy layer of grime and mud on him and his clothes. Bruce was sitting next to him, pristine and cold. (Jason would come to find out that Bruce was actually excited that day, in his own weird way of showing it).

The car stopped in front of the doors of the Wayne Manor. Alfred opened the door for Jason first and then the tunnel vision stopped and Jason felt for the first time in his life that he could breathe. It was so… _green_ outside of the city. The rain didn’t feel like knives on his body, it felt warm and sweet. He didn’t smile, not yet, but his heart beat a little slower and he felt calm. He wasn’t scared anymore.

The second day was much less pleasant. He was 15 years old and it was a hot Gotham day. The air was thick, humid, and even though it was night time, almost 100 degrees. Jason had a horrible day. He was grounded from patrolling, he had been accused of murder, Bruce, his own father, didn’t even believe him. 3 years was a long time to build trust. 3 years of training, studying, of love, and Bruce didn’t trust him. Jason angrly ignored the tears in his eyes and opened his window. He tossed his bag out first and then himself. The day he ran away, a week or so before he died. Jason had never regret anything so much as that night.

The third day he remembered was when he was welcomed back with reluctant smiles and suspicious eyes. It was cold that day. Snow was on the ground, slushy and perfect for snowballs, but the loud crunch of it under his boots was all Jason could hear. It was thundering in his ears, just like his heartbeat. He was nervous.

Of course he was, he had reasoned with himself, he was finally going to the one place he had ever called home after so many horrible things. And all those horrible things were his fault.

Dick had answered the door smiling tight, and his hug felt more like a pat down for weapons than an actual welcome. Damian was scowling at him from behind a tight lipped Bruce. Tim wasn’t seen for 3 days and it was 2 weeks before he spoke to Jason. The “ _Don’t pretend to be something you’re not_ ” was too clear in his head, Tim’s disapproving and hateful scorn so loud. It stung like a horrible snake bite to hear that but it was everything Jason deserved.

None of those days were fun to remember.

But the vague ghost like memories surrounding him, vanishing figures of Bruce and Damian at the stairs, Dick at the door, Tim nowhere to be seen, Jason walked right past them. He couldn’t listen to the memories today.

“Jason!” Arms ensnared him and Jason prayed he could let his tension disappear. Dick wasn’t there to hurt him. He was safe. He still couldn’t help but let out a deep breath when Dick released him. The hug was genuine. Jason tried to remember that.

“Hey Big Bird, how are ya?”

Dick smiled, his usual cheery grin. “I was about to ask you the same question! No patrol for a week, must be driving you stir crazy! I know it’s giving me a bad case of the jitters.”

Jason wasn’t going to let Dick’s avoidance fly. “Really D. How are you?” His words were curt. He felt horrible for being one of the reasons Dick had collapsed that day, and even though Dick had said he remembered nothing of the fight, Jason remembered every word. He couldn’t deny the black fire in his stomach, eating him. _Guilt_.

Dick’s smile softened. “I’m doing okay Little Wing. Yesterday Damian and I had a long talk about what happened, and he feels better about it. I was hoping we could do the same.”

Jason couldn’t help it and scoffed. “Dick you were so stressed you collapsed and had a fucking seizure. That's not a fucking conversation you can just talk your way out of. You need help.”

Dick’s smile turned into a frown. “Do you think I don’t know that? I’m trying to talk to you about something important to me so that I can get help. I’m reaching out here Jason.”

“Ever the patient fucking superhero,” Jason spat, “trying to fix everything.”

Dick glared. “What’s your fucking problem Jason? I’m trying to be an adult here, why can’t you do the same?”

Jason’s mind reeled. The guilt and the betrayal and the hurt, it was an unsightly green and it poisoned Jason’s breath. “You could have gotten hurt Dick! Instead of fixing something with duct tape and super glue why don’t you be more careful and not fucking break it in the first place!” Jason didn’t even really understand what he was saying but it felt right.

Dick took a step back and took a deep breath. “Jason... I’m not gonna fight. I’m not. I don’t have the energy.” Jason opened his mouth but Dick calmly put a hand up. “Please. Just have breakfast with me. We can talk there and you can yell at me all you want. Not like I can stop you.”

Jason bit his tongue and nodded.

Dick led the way to the kitchen, despite him not needing him too.

The kitchen was split into two sections: the first being the counters against the wall full of necessities, the cupboards, the two fridges, a stove, drawers, etc. and all equally spread out in a way that didn’t make it seem crowded. The second section was the long island/bar that had two sinks at equal intervals on opposite ends of the bar, close enough to the middle that they were useful and not in the way of each other. It, the kitchen, was primarily Alfred’s territory, but it was open to anyone who wished to use it. Every person in the Manor knew how to cook thanks to both Alfred’s expertise and his belief that young men that can’t provide for themselves weren’t young men at all, but distasteful hooligans. He would not release his grandsons into the wild without having the necessary skills to survive, and that was final.

That and having quality cooking time with Alfred was always a treat.

Sitting on the bar were two plates with pancakes and it wasn’t hard to see who’s plate was whose. Dick’s few number of three were covered in fruit (bananas, strawberries, blueberries) and nuts (walnuts and almonds), honey instead of syrup, and some powdered sugar just brushing the top. Jason’s savory six were littered with cooked spinach, bratwurst sausage, a light olive oil coating the plate, and some feta cheese spread throughout. They looked delicious and Jason’s mouth watered at the sight.

The two sat in their spots and took a few tense bites before Jason spoke.

“So what’s going on with you?”

“I have a lot of responsibility.” Dick paused. Took another bite. Began again. ”I try to manage my time appropriately so that way I don’t get overwhelmed, but sometimes it doesn’t always work out that way. Last Thursday was one of those times.”

Jason swallowed his bite. “What are you responsible for?”

Dick shrugged. “I have this family, my Titans, I have work, NW stuff, I have normal adult responsibilities. Each category has a list the size of the sun.”

“And that’s it?” He immediately regretted how that came out.

Dick gave Jason a harsh look. “You aren’t in place to judge Jason. You wanted to know.”

Jason glared back. “I never said I was judging!”

Dick turned his attention back to his plate. His knuckles were white. “I’m working on getting better at it Jason. I’m only human, okay?”

“Who said you weren’t?”

Rather than the fight Jason had expected from Dick, his brother just started to laugh. Soft at first, grading into head thrown back belly laughter. Jason was worried that maybe he wasn’t the only one unhinged.

“God,” Dick whispered when he calmed down. “I needed that. Thanks Little Wing.”

Jason nodded, not sure what to say next.

They ate in silence for a while longer. Jason finished first.

Dick finished and they sat together.

“You know I love you right?”

No. “Yeah. Of course I do.”

“I love you a lot Jason. I know I’m not a good brother. I have a lot of issues, I’m angry a lot of the time. I can be too serious and I can’t be serious enough. I have so much to take care of that sometimes my focus isn’t on the thing that matters. I want to apologize.”

“Dick, you don’t have to, I mean --”

“I’m sorry Jason. I hurt you.” The eye contact was heavy and Jason felt his soul cower under Dick’s deep gaze. “I hurt you. That was unforgivable then, and it’s unforgivable now, but I’m asking that you do the impossible and forgive me. The way I treated you before--” he choked on his words and the tears in his eyes “--before you died, it was cruel. It was horrible of me and it weighs so heavy on my heart.” The tears slipped down Dick’s cheeks. “I was wrong to do that Jason. I was wrong and I never said I was sorry. You were so young and I lost you before I could even say that. I never -- I never even -- Jesus Christ fuck, I’m sorry Jason, I’m so fucking sorry.” Dick collapsed into tears and Jason’s own throat gave out. He sobbed a few times, took a deep breath in, held it, and let go. He grabbed Dick’s hand.

“Dick, look at me.” He did as told. “You were a fucking asshole. I loved you, you know? I loved you until I met you.” Dick choked back another sob. “I was so happy to have a father, a grandfather, people who cared about me no matter what I did. For the first time in my miserable fucking life, I was put first. And to get a brother too? One who was talked up? You should have heard them talk about you Dick. I couldn’t believe I had the perfect brother. I didn’t care that you weren’t adopted like I was. I didn’t care that you were from a circus, that you were half Roma, you were amazing, a cop, someone who would understand what it was like to be viewed as a charity case, who dealt with the racism, the passive aggressive politics, the not so hidden double meanings. I was trembling with excitement to meet you. And you were a fucking shit bag. I hated you Dick.” Dick sobbed harder.

“Do you know what last week did to me? I was scared for your fucking life Dick. I thought — I thought you were gonna die and that we would never get to be brothers. All those years ago you said to me that we could have another chance and... and it never really happened. Even now, we aren’t brothers. We’re co workers, friends. We don’t talk. We don’t —“ He sighed. “There is no connection. It’s weighed down by you being an asshole and me being a disgrace to the Robin name. I’ve fucked my life up from the beginning and I’ve fucked yours up too now. And while I might not have changed much... you have Dick. You aren’t an asshole anymore.

“And I forgave you a long time ago for being one. That’s what family is about.” Dick attacked Jason with a wet hug. Jason felt a weight off of his shoulders, realizing that maybe those past attempts weren’t really first steps, and that this was. It felt good.

Dick cried for a while. Jason let a few sobs go and kept thinking “ _this is healing_ ” so much it was pretty much his mantra.

Dick was never this vulnerable before. It was a huge shift from the usual Dick and what he was comfortable talking about. How could Dick be holding this much in?

He slowed down and peeled himself off of his younger brother. He wiped his eyes. “God I must look like a fucking idiot.” Jason laughed.

“A bit yeah. But… this is our first step. To getting better. We’re good at not talking about our issues D. We have to get better about that. Both of us.” Dick smiled and nodded. “So tell me big brother. What’s going on?”

Dick’s face fell but he looked lighter. He spoke and let his heart come undone. Jason was a good listener, he didn’t speak, he took Dick’s hand in his and squeezed when he felt Dick needed it. He offered words of comfort in between each issue on Dick’s shoulders and Jason mentally made a list of how to help his older brother.

Dick finished, tears still shining on his cheeks, but he looked so calm. “I just didn’t know how to talk about this before. I didn’t know how to not bother you guys. You’re my little brother, you shouldn’t hear about how stressed I am at being an adult—“

“Oh shut up. You come to us to see our perspectives on cases right? It doesn’t bother us at all, we like feeling needed and helpful. Everyone does, it’s basic psychology. It’s the same thing with life Dick. I can help with more than half of what's on your lists, you just needed my perspective. Now come on,” Jason caught sight of the clock on the wall. it read noon. “Therapy is over. Let’s go get some lunch and work on these things together. And tomorrow you can pay me back and listen to me. We’re brothers remember? We help each other.”

**Author's Note:**

> Jason Todd is a dynamic character and he can be soft and he can be confused and he can be vulnerable. He's not always angry. He's not always clear with his words. This reads different from the others but that's because Jason himself is different from Dick and Damian, so his perspective and his way of telling his story, it sounds different. Dick is clear and literal. Damian paints his worlds like he paints a canvas. Jason tells it biased and not so clear. His view is disoriented. And this is only the beginning of Dick's healing.


End file.
